The day after Christmas, Boxing Day to the English among us or The Feast of Stephen. By whatever moniker the 26th of December is known or celebrated, it was a terrible day in Garland in 2015.
The 26th was an usually warm day, downright muggy. In California, they might even call this "earthquake weather", in Texas, it is definitely "tornado weather". Sue found it a convenient afternoon to do some gardening in the moist soil and warm air while the sunlight lasted. The unstable atmosphere prompted the meteorologist to call for thunderstorms in the evening, possibly severe, and even a chance for tornadoes. Unfortunately, they got all of this dead right.
Sue had cleaned up from the garden mud and was in the kitchen getting some supper prepared around 7:30 as I turned on the TV to see what we might expected weatherwise. The moisture up from the Gulf of Mexico was violently colliding with the Pacific cold front and the county south of Dallas was reporting tornadic activity, and the storm was moving north into Dallas County. I stayed tuned and watched the weather radar forming into angry reds and violet bans with some "hook" patterns that almost certainly meant circulating winds that were forming into a couple of twisters. This time they were projected to head for our town Garland and Rowlett, NE of Dallas. Two probable tornadoes were shown to be moving north in our direction. As I watched the TV, Sue called from the kitchen, "I hear tornado warning sirens going off in our neighborhood, what do you see on TV?"
I said, I don't think I've ever heard our local tornado sirens sound before, and the weatherman has his suit jacket off (this is a sign of serious weather) and they are showing a couple if probable tornadoes, one tracking up Hwy 75 (7 miles west of us) and another coming into eastern Garland along the Rowlett city line. Kind of close to us.
Sue suggested we get our "safe closet" prepared, I said I am starting to work on that right now. We use the small closet under our stairs in the center of the house (away from exterior walls and windows) as our place of refuge. But, since it is a closet space, that means I have to haul out vacuum cleaners, attachments, dining table leaves and assorted closet "stuff" in order for us to fit inside and cover our heads in case our roof is ripped off and projectile 2X4's come flying through the walls at 170 mph.
Meanwhile the frequent violent thunderclaps accompanying this storm has got at least one of the dogs with whom we are taking care off freaking out to the point of vomiting. We then start to get emergency messages from the Weather Service on our phones telling us to seek shelter immediately. So, of course the owner of the dogs, who is safely in New York, get the same message on her phone and thinks about her poor dogs, while we are trying to get emergency shelter prepared. The owner is texting us wanting to know what is going on? Is everything OK? Sue feels the need to respond to her texts. Though I suggested she ignore the concerns expressed over social media and turn her attention to keeping the panicked dog from barfing all over our wool rug. If she wants to know whats going on in Texas, she should not be in New York - this is a matter of survival. I am cool and cruel in this way when it comes to life threatening emergencies.
Sue is multitasking, explaining the weather situation and forecast to someone 3,000 miles away all the while she is trying to heard the 3 dogs into the downstairs bathroom and lock them in there. Bella, starts to scratch frantically at the wall behind the toilet, attempting to peel off the wallpaper. This dog is crazy. Our former dog Strider, never acted so weird in stormy Texas weather.
With our safe closet cleared and the vacuum and stuff cluttering the hallway, I continue to watch the newscast (at least while the power is still on). It looks like we have a lot of rain and lightning, but the winds are minimal, and the path of the twister is tracking 6 miles east of us. The storm moves on into the next county and kills a baby and a man.
The All-Clear for our Garland neighborhood is sounded, the dogs are sprung from the bathroom, and we watch the damage reports come in. In Garland. 9 people were killed as they traveled on a highway, and drove unsuspectingly into the cyclone and had their vehicles sucked up into the turbulence and blown off an overpass. They drove through the rain and darkness and most likely had no idea that they were headed straight into deadly winds spinning at 175 mph. One woman was face-timing on her phone with the father of her children when she was swept to her death. In the daylight, over 1,000 home were destroyed and several hundred were damaged.
We are dismayed by the claim from those who survived their shattered homes, that it was God who purposely and specifically spared their lives. We then wonder what that attitude towards providence says about those who did not survive. But, maybe, if you crawl out from under a pile of splintered wood and fiberglass insulation, you have a right to account for your survival in anyway that makes sense to you.
We are fine. It is a long and tortuous process to deal with insurance, builders and government agency for those who lost most or all of their belonging.
The swath of destruction from the St. Stephen's Day Disaster is huge, but it looks like the caring and resources contributed to those hurt is even greater. That to me is a sure sign of God's grace.
The 26th was an usually warm day, downright muggy. In California, they might even call this "earthquake weather", in Texas, it is definitely "tornado weather". Sue found it a convenient afternoon to do some gardening in the moist soil and warm air while the sunlight lasted. The unstable atmosphere prompted the meteorologist to call for thunderstorms in the evening, possibly severe, and even a chance for tornadoes. Unfortunately, they got all of this dead right.
Sue had cleaned up from the garden mud and was in the kitchen getting some supper prepared around 7:30 as I turned on the TV to see what we might expected weatherwise. The moisture up from the Gulf of Mexico was violently colliding with the Pacific cold front and the county south of Dallas was reporting tornadic activity, and the storm was moving north into Dallas County. I stayed tuned and watched the weather radar forming into angry reds and violet bans with some "hook" patterns that almost certainly meant circulating winds that were forming into a couple of twisters. This time they were projected to head for our town Garland and Rowlett, NE of Dallas. Two probable tornadoes were shown to be moving north in our direction. As I watched the TV, Sue called from the kitchen, "I hear tornado warning sirens going off in our neighborhood, what do you see on TV?"
I said, I don't think I've ever heard our local tornado sirens sound before, and the weatherman has his suit jacket off (this is a sign of serious weather) and they are showing a couple if probable tornadoes, one tracking up Hwy 75 (7 miles west of us) and another coming into eastern Garland along the Rowlett city line. Kind of close to us.
Sue suggested we get our "safe closet" prepared, I said I am starting to work on that right now. We use the small closet under our stairs in the center of the house (away from exterior walls and windows) as our place of refuge. But, since it is a closet space, that means I have to haul out vacuum cleaners, attachments, dining table leaves and assorted closet "stuff" in order for us to fit inside and cover our heads in case our roof is ripped off and projectile 2X4's come flying through the walls at 170 mph.
Meanwhile the frequent violent thunderclaps accompanying this storm has got at least one of the dogs with whom we are taking care off freaking out to the point of vomiting. We then start to get emergency messages from the Weather Service on our phones telling us to seek shelter immediately. So, of course the owner of the dogs, who is safely in New York, get the same message on her phone and thinks about her poor dogs, while we are trying to get emergency shelter prepared. The owner is texting us wanting to know what is going on? Is everything OK? Sue feels the need to respond to her texts. Though I suggested she ignore the concerns expressed over social media and turn her attention to keeping the panicked dog from barfing all over our wool rug. If she wants to know whats going on in Texas, she should not be in New York - this is a matter of survival. I am cool and cruel in this way when it comes to life threatening emergencies.
Sue is multitasking, explaining the weather situation and forecast to someone 3,000 miles away all the while she is trying to heard the 3 dogs into the downstairs bathroom and lock them in there. Bella, starts to scratch frantically at the wall behind the toilet, attempting to peel off the wallpaper. This dog is crazy. Our former dog Strider, never acted so weird in stormy Texas weather.
With our safe closet cleared and the vacuum and stuff cluttering the hallway, I continue to watch the newscast (at least while the power is still on). It looks like we have a lot of rain and lightning, but the winds are minimal, and the path of the twister is tracking 6 miles east of us. The storm moves on into the next county and kills a baby and a man.
The All-Clear for our Garland neighborhood is sounded, the dogs are sprung from the bathroom, and we watch the damage reports come in. In Garland. 9 people were killed as they traveled on a highway, and drove unsuspectingly into the cyclone and had their vehicles sucked up into the turbulence and blown off an overpass. They drove through the rain and darkness and most likely had no idea that they were headed straight into deadly winds spinning at 175 mph. One woman was face-timing on her phone with the father of her children when she was swept to her death. In the daylight, over 1,000 home were destroyed and several hundred were damaged.
We are dismayed by the claim from those who survived their shattered homes, that it was God who purposely and specifically spared their lives. We then wonder what that attitude towards providence says about those who did not survive. But, maybe, if you crawl out from under a pile of splintered wood and fiberglass insulation, you have a right to account for your survival in anyway that makes sense to you.
We are fine. It is a long and tortuous process to deal with insurance, builders and government agency for those who lost most or all of their belonging.
The swath of destruction from the St. Stephen's Day Disaster is huge, but it looks like the caring and resources contributed to those hurt is even greater. That to me is a sure sign of God's grace.
